


Mr. Brightside

by Sinful Words (MontanaHarper)



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, Bandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-14
Updated: 2005-05-14
Packaged: 2017-10-11 20:54:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MontanaHarper/pseuds/Sinful%20Words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah's the groupie for a change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Brightside

Elijah's in the green room, happily buzzing from the couple of beers he's already downed, when the band shows up. The Killers aren't exactly his thing—too pop, too nineteen-eighty-three—but he's seen their vids on MTV and taken the time to look up their bio on the internet because even if their music doesn't really grab him, Brandon Flowers has more than caught his attention.

Brandon's pretty—Orlando-pretty, even—and he's got an incredible presence and sense of style when it comes to performing, something Elijah finds almost irresistible. Which is why Elijah's making his way across the room, one hand wrapped around the cold, wet neck of a beer bottle and the other stuffed into the front pocket of his jeans, over to where Brandon's standing alone looking a little lost while the rest of the band descends on the buffet table.

"Hey, you're Brandon Flowers, right?" he says with a grin, and offers his hand. "Elijah Wood." He looks up slightly, into hazel eyes ringed with dark eyeliner and accented with blue-green eye shadow, and fuck if Dom hasn't broken him so that he can't see a guy wearing eye makeup without getting a fucking hardon. The glossy shine of Brandon's mouth doesn't hurt, either, because it makes him think of spit-slicked lips wrapped around his cock, and fuck but he needs to take care of that _right now_ because his jeans are tight and it's starting to hurt, and besides, it's probably glaringly obvious to anyone who looks that he's thrown a rod.

He's been holding Brandon's hand for just a little too long, he thinks, but just at this second he really doesn't give a fuck. Brandon's not pulling away, so Elijah grins up at him from underneath his eyelashes—his best sexy and seductive look—and his breath catches when Brandon's thumb strokes his hand lightly, sending shivers down his spine and making his nipples hard. Then Brandon tilts his head to the left and Elijah follows his eye-line to the half-open door at the back of the room and oh yeah, that's just exactly what Elijah was thinking.

Elijah tosses back the last of his beer and sets the bottle down, then nods, letting Brandon lead him toward the doorway and through, but as soon as the door to the tiny bathroom closes behind them, Elijah turns and pushes Brandon against it, licking and biting at those glossy red lips that taste unexpectedly of cherries.

Brandon's fingers are caught in Elijah's waistband, tugging the button free and brushing against Elijah's stomach in a way that makes Elijah's breath catch and his hips thrust. He helps just enough to ease the pressure on his aching dick and then he turns his attention to Brandon's jeans. Even though he's been picturing that slickhot mouth on his dick since Brandon walked into the green room, once he's got Brandon's jeans undone and Brandon's dick in his hand—and the commando thing makes Elijah think of Dom, too—it's all too easy to drop to his knees.

He licks a stripe up the underside of Brandon's dick and grins at the hissed gasp, then he slides his mouth over the head and as far down the shaft as he can go, pushing the limits of his gag reflex because he knows how good the shock feels when you're on the other end of it. There's a muffled thump from above him and he looks up through his lashes to see Brandon's head resting against the door, his lips slightly parted and his eyes closed. He can hear Brandon's breathing—ragged and with a hint of a moan with every exhalation—and the sound makes his dick twitch.

Oh yeah, this was possibly Elijah's best idea ever.

He pulls back, dragging his teeth lightly as he goes and dragging a shudder out of Brandon at the same time, then wraps his left hand around the base of Brandon's dick. Brandon shifts a little, tilts his head so he can watch what Elijah is doing, and his hands are moving and clenching like he wants to grab on to Elijah's shoulders or head but isn't sure how far he can go without being stopped. Elijah wraps his right hand around his own dick and starts a slow rhythm that's the most he can stand without coming way too soon. He sucks hard at Brandon's dick for a second before pulling all the way off.

He nods toward one of Brandon's clenched fists and says, "Go ahead and touch if you want," before swallowing Brandon's dick again, and Brandon takes him at his word, tangling fingers in Elijah's hair and thrusting his hips slightly.

Elijah's dick throbs and he hears himself moan, and fuck but he's going to come too soon anyway because the slick hardness of Brandon's dick in his mouth feels too good. And maybe Brandon takes the moan as permission, or maybe he's just at the same place Elijah is, where the line between _want_ and _need_ is too blurred to be sure which side you're on.

Elijah just relaxes his jaw and takes Brandon's dick as deep as he can, lets Brandon fuck his mouth, sucking breaths in through his nose whenever Brandon pulls back enough. He speeds up the rhythm of his hand on his own dick until his hips are rocking of their own accord and he's thrusting into his fist and moaning around Brandon's dick. Then Brandon freezes and he can feel the throbbing against his tongue, can feel the hot wash of spunk at the back of his throat, and then Elijah's shattering, his thighs tight and trembling as he comes.

 _Yeah,_ he thinks as he tucks his dick back into his jeans and buttons them up, _best fucking idea ever._


End file.
